


Whoever Has the Gold Makes the Rules

by misura



Category: The Night Manager (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Fade to Black, M/M, Mansion Fic, Monopoly (Board Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: While staying at Roper's mansion, Jonathan gets dragged into a game of Monopoly.
Relationships: Lance "Corky" Corkoran/Jonathan Pine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Whoever Has the Gold Makes the Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabulous_but_evil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulous_but_evil/gifts).



> rated M for, like, two sentences
> 
> merry Yuletide!

Danny suggested the game, or rather: Danny mentioned wanting to play a boardgame, and Roper indulged him by dispatching one minion to scrounge the mansion, one to tell Corky to cancel any evening plans he might have made and one to invite Sandy.

In due course, the minion showed up with Monopoly, which Roper declared 'acceptable, if a bit capitalistic, what?'. Corky showed up looking ready to mutiny, though he seemed to make an effort to be civil to Danny and Jed, at least.

Sandy did not show up at all, sending his regrets instead.

Roper shrugged, said, "Well, some people clearly don't know how to have any fun, eh, Danny?", ruffling Danny's hair, and so the game began, the five of them gathered around a too low table in the living room.

The game started normal enough. It had been years since Jonathan's last time playing, but the house rules seemed more or less clear, enforced by Roper, who had also appointed himself banker while claiming the top hat as his token.

Danny, as the only kid, was allowed an unlimited amount of credit, Roper making a show of 'finding' more money in Danny's possession whenever Danny ran out - "My goodness, will you look at that, _another_ Swiss bank account? You're a sly one, aren't you?"

"For God's sake, don't say things like that," Jed said, the fifth time it happened, looking tense and unhappy.

Roper scowled at her and smiled at Danny, but the next time Danny got himself in trouble, there were no more Swiss bank accounts or notes hidden behind Danny's ears. Instead it was, "Time for bed, go on, don't give me that face, it's your own damn fault for losing all your money," which felt a little harsh, though Danny looked half-asleep already, so Jonathan doubted Roper's tone even registered with him.

Jed left with Danny, ignoring Roper's frown - "Darling, can I have your property?" Roper asked, deliberately not looking at her, and Jed kissed his cheek and told him, "I'm going to bed, I'm not dead so no, you can't inherit everything I own, the three of you can split it or do whatever, I don't care"

She kissed Corky next, also on the cheek, and then she and Danny were gone and it was just the three of them: Corky and Roper and Jonathan.

Jonathan toyed with the idea of following Jed's example, leaving the room to Corky and Roper and the bottle of whiskey one of Roper's minions had delivered before retreating. It was expensive, high quality, about what he'd expect from Roper. Worth sticking around for a little while longer, perhaps, and besides, people talked when they got drunk. People let down their guard when they thought they were ahead, when they were in control of the situation, and then he realized Roper was looking at him like he was thinking the exact same thing

"Not doing too well, are you?" Roper said. Jonathan wondered why part of him wanted to prove Roper wrong. It was a game of Monopoly. Nothing was going to happen if he lost. Nobody was going to get hurt if he failed to beat Roper here and now.

In fact, Roper seemed like the type to be a sore loser, so losing would be the wiser option.

Luckily, Jonathan didn't think that was going to be a problem. Roper already owned nearly half the board, including most of the more expensive properties. It was only a matter of time.

"What's that they say again?" Corky said. "Unlucky in the game, lucky in love?" He slurred the words, having drunk more than his fair share of the liquor, which was a pity. A drunk Corky was nothing new.

Roper was the one Jonathan wanted to slur his words, the one he wanted to talk about all the things he'd done, all the secrets he kept to himself when sober. The one he wanted to see without the mask: the real Roper, who was a bastard and a villain and not half as charming as he pretended to be.

"Assuming Corky here is right, your luck in love must be positively phenomenal," Roper said.

Jonathan smiled and picked up the dice. "I'm afraid not." He moved his Scottie dog to one of the railway stations, owned by Corky, who chuckled.

"Good," Roper said, taking his turn and landing on Free Parking. "I'd hate to discover you were holding out on us. We're a close-knit bunch here. No surprises, no secrets."

"No shame," Corky said, sounding bitter, which might be the alcohol talking.

Jonathan kept coming back to Corky as the weak link - weaker than Sandy, who was sharp and usually sober, but whom Jonathan suspected would also be the first to cut his losses if things went wrong, and yet at the same time Corky was more loyal to Roper than anyone. If push came to shove, Jonathan suspected Corky wouldn't cut his losses; he'd stick with Roper until the bitter end.

"I don't think a bit of discretion is too much to ask," Roper said.

Corky scoffed. Jonathan handed him the dice. Corky rolled a seven, drawing a Chance card and earning himself a fine.

"Maybe we should call it a night. It's late," Jonathan said. Like him, Corky was going to lose. Like Roper, Corky wasn't going to be a graceful loser.

"And forgo the pleasure of bankrupting the both of you? Don't be silly. Besides, what's the hurry? Big plans tomorrow?" Roper counted out the money for another house. He looked calm, relaxed, a little amused.

"Easy enough to win when you're the banker, isn't it?" Corky said.

Jonathan wondered if he was actually going to catch a real break in his case due to a game of Monopoly. It seemed unlikely, unreal - but if he were honest with himself, most of these past weeks had seemed unreal.

He'd pursued Roper for years, thought of getting close enough to Roper to avenge Sophie for years, and in all that time, he'd never considered Roper might have a wife whom he loved, or a son, or a friend like Corky, whom he bickered with and teased and cracked dirty jokes with.

"Sounds like someone's a sore loser," Roper said. "Unless you really want to do the whole pistols at dawn thing? How about it, Corks? You up for some high drama?"

"I," Corky declared, "am very drunk. And losing very badly. And right now, I don't like you at all. Your turn."

Jonathan rolled an unlucky eleven and landed on Vine Street, losing the last of his cash to Roper, who grinned. "Looks like someone's in a spot of trouble."

Jonathan shrugged. Corky wasn't going to do his dirty work for him, and Roper wasn't going to spill the beans simply because he'd won all of Jonathan's fake money. The smart thing to do would be to go to bed, get a good night's sleep and wake up tomorrow fresh and ready for another day.

Corky got lucky by rolling a five and moved the boot to Coventry Street, which was his.

Roper splurged for a hotel on Mayfair, whistling cheerfully. Jonathan idly wondered if Corky had been right to accuse Roper of cheating. The thing with Danny had been both unobjectionable and blatant; Jonathan supposed it might have served as a distraction from Roper helping himself to some extra funds as well, yet it seemed equally likely that everything was just as it appeared: Corky, drunk and a sore loser, and Roper sober and smart about spending his money.

_Stop,_ he told himself, reaching for the dice. _You're not after him for cheating at boardgames. Remember your goal._

"Well, so much for the promising newcomer," Corky said, and Jonathan counted and realized he'd managed to slip past Corky's next railroad station only to land on Park Lane, which Roper had bought a third house for only two turns ago.

"Pity." Jonathan smiled his professional smile. "I was enjoying myself. Ah well. Good game, gentlemen."

"Not so fast there, Tommy boy," Roper said. "More than one way to pay the rent, isn't there? You owe me, what, five? What say we let you earn it, fair and square?"

Corky grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Jonathan swallowed. The way Roper was looking at him, the way he sounded ... "What did you have in mind?"

"Sing for your supper, that sort of thing. Who knows, you do it well enough, I might tip you, put some real money in your pocket. You play your cards right, you might even outlast the Corkster."

"Cheating," Corky sing-songed. "God, I hate this game. Why do we even have this here?"

Roper grinned, all sharp teeth and malice, and Jonathan felt his mouth go dry, even though he wasn't afraid, or nervous; if Roper knew, or even suspected, it wouldn't happen like this, over a game of Monopoly. "Why don't you show Corky here how good you are with that mouth of yours? Maybe make him sing a more cheerful tune."

_'I don't think a bit of discretion is too much to ask,'_ Roper had said, not all that long ago; Jonathan wondered how this suggestion could be considered even remotely discreet. Corky looked bored, as if this was all par for the course, nothing new, all dreadfully dull.

Jonathan licked his lips, trying to read Roper's expression, to figure out what Roper was expecting him to do or say, and whether he was going to live up or down to those expectations.

Corky muttered something in French, and Roper looked at him and laughed and said, "Consider it an early birthday present, why not? A little token of appreciation from your very good friend."

Jonathan saw something slither over Corky's face. Roper's smile turned a bit mocking, as if to say, 'what, were you expecting me to do it myself'?', which Corky surely couldn't have. A man like Roper didn't get down on his knees for anyone.

A man like Thomas Quince - well.

"Is this supposed to make me play nice again with the other children?" Corky asked, turning away from Roper to look at Jonathan through half-lidded eyes. "Is this your attempt to - what, bribe me with another man's mouth?"

"Fuck's sake, Corky, it's a gift," Roper said. "I'm trying to do something nice here, for no reason and with no ulterior motives whatsoever. You want to be an ungrateful little shit about it, fine. He can suck mine instead, or maybe I'll have him over the table right here, and you can watch. Would you like that better? I bet I'd get you hard just by telling you what he feels like. I bet I'd have you coming with your hand on your prick and your eyes glued to what I'm doing to our boy here."

Jonathan kept quiet, careful not to look at either of them. He realized he should have gone with Jed, and Danny, and let Roper get on Corky's nerves a bit more by beating him at Monopoly.

"You bastard," Corky said, glaring at Roper. "You utter, utter bastard. You think you have me all figured out, don't you? Good old Corky."

"To be honest, you're simply not that complicated, Corks." Roper shrugged. "Who cares? I want bloody complicated, I'll pick up a book or put on one of those pretentious French films. So what's it gonna be?"

Corky frowned, looking at Jonathan for the briefest of moments. Jonathan would have felt hurt, except that it confirmed his earlier impression: this was less about him and more about them.

"Fine," Corky said, sounding more annoyed than eager. "Fine. I'll be good."

"All right then." Roper smiled, all good cheer again. "Let's have ourselves a bit of fun, eh?"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to W for an amazing Brit pick/beta! any and all remaining errors are the result of the author making last-minute edits.


End file.
